


When The Stars Fell From The Night Sky

by TheLastOfTheReal_Ones



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Shazam! (2019), Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: (but shhh! It’s a secret), Alternate Universe - Gods, And I just realize they’re don’t even interact in the first chapter, And no one is really evil either, At least not for long, Conner has his reasons, Damian is not nice to Jon and Billy, Happy Ending, I don’t know where that came from, Jon and Billy are secretly nice, Kind of evil Jon and Billy but not really, Koriand’r takes care of Helena, Multi, No one is really dead, Slow Burn, TW - Death, TW - Suicide (does it count if they know they’re not going to be really dead?), TW - Torture, They all have their reasons, They weren’t really nice either, Yes the capitals are needed, but they deserve it, so make that the second chapter, they’re husbands, they’re just mean to Damian in the first chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastOfTheReal_Ones/pseuds/TheLastOfTheReal_Ones
Summary: Three centuries ago, a God was betrayed and banished to the Underworld. One day he was King, the ruler of the Earth, and the other, he had nothing left but the anger in his heart and the pain in his soul. His husband had been taken from him, his own brother had betrayed him and a part of himself was still missing.Now, the world was in chaos. Six of the seven humans marked by the God of the Underworld were dead, and there was only a young man left standing between the Gods and the crown they desired. A young man with a little sister he had to protect and a mark on his back that sentenced him to hell before he had even had the chance to live his life.The Gate left by the God of Protection was the only way for Helena to be safe, and Damian had to get her there at any cost.If only he could’ve had a little more time...
Relationships: Billy Batson/Damian Wayne, Billy Batson/Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne & Helena Wayne, Damian Wayne/Jonathan Kent, Jonathan Kent/Billy Batson, Kon-El | Conner Kent/M'gann M'orzz, Koriand’r & Helena Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48





	1. When The Stars Fell From The Night Sky

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry, I really am.
> 
> I know Jon is a bit (a lot) OOC but it’s just in the first chapters.  
> (He’s angry and hurt, okay!)
> 
> And I know that Billy is probably even more OOC, but I never really read his comics, I’ve just watch the movie, so I don’t know the character that well...
> 
> And Damian is just Damian, although to Helena he’s the best big brother ever.

Conner was sick of this.

Jon was looking at him, eyes black and empty, his hands alight with an undying fire. His little brother took another step towards him, and the God sighed. He was so sick of this. Sick of the guilt, sick of the loss to come. Sick of the pain in his chest, where once the love he felt for his wife stood. 

Sick of the greed in his heart, sick of the love he held for the power he had.

He knew it would happen one day. Jon was smart, he would figure it out. Even banned to the Underworld, he still was brighter and stronger than Conner could ever hope to be. 

Jon was a God, after all. And he was just a man with the blood of an immortal. Conner was just half of who Jon was, had half of the power he possessed and half of the will he wielded. He could never defeat him, could never dream of even harming him.

He was sick, after all.

He thought he would be strong enough, powerful enough, to keep the thirst for power at bay.

He was wrong, had been since the start.

And it cost him so much.

He should have listen when his father told him the throne could only belong to a God. He should have listen when Clark told him that the reason for this was that the human heart was too easily corrupted by the power the crown held.

“Why, Conner? Why did you have to do this?”

The Demi-God smiled, a tired smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He had no answer for his brother, or at least, none the God would understand. No, he wouldn’t understand, not when Conner took everything from him. 

But maybe he could try to explain what reasons drove his actions.

“I wanted the throne. I… I needed to feel powerful.”

Jon had a dark look in his eyes, and the fire in his hands rose with the one in his veins. Hate and pain took over his face. Conner knew he wouldn’t understand. He had no right to hope he would, but still, he somehow wished Jon would put aside all Conner did to him for a few seconds.

He was being delusional, he knew. Maybe he was more sick then he thought. 

“You stole my crown, banished me to the Underworld and took the love of my life away from me to feel… powerful?”

Conner nodded. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment. He was sure the words would get stuck in his throat anyway. He was so sick of this. Of the pain.

The pain he felt every time he remembered the way Jon had screamed and cried, as if his heart was being ripped from his chest and torn apart, when his husband had been banished to the Sea. In a way, Conner supposed that was exactly the case.

The King sighed and looked in his brother’s eyes. He knew he wasn’t ready to confront Jon just yet, and he knew the one thing that would push him over the edge was to come face to face with he God’s barely contained hatred.

But something told him he had crossed the edge a long time ago, and the only thing worse waiting for him now was perhaps death.

No. Never death. He’d never die. He made sure of it. Jonathan would never rule again, the only King was Conner, and as long as the Gate stands, he was the Lord of the world!

“Was it worth it?”

Yes!

No!

Yes! Yes. Power was everything he had, everything he needed! All of what he was, all of what he had become, everything he had faced and defeated, the humanity he had lost along the way, M’gann’s betrayal, it was all worth it, because power was his! The throne would always be his!

“Shut up! SHUT UP!”

Jon watched his brother put his hands over his ears and close his eyes, wincing as if Conner truly was in pain. The King yelled another ‘Shut up!’ as if it would really keep the voices quiet in his head. As if it was enough to make them disappear.

The God watched as the only piece of sanity left in his brother’s mind crumbled to pieces, leaving only pain and greed and anger behind. Conner rose to his feet, eyes still closed, but when he opened then again, crazy eyes stared back at Jon with all their might.

The Demi-God leaped at him, a sword in hand, and Jon dodged, a reborn fire lit in his heart. He had waited for that moment almost three hundred years.

They fought.

All day long, a God and half of a God, brothers in nothing else but half of the blood they shared. 

Fire against might, will against shield, anger against greed.

At some point, Jon had drawn his own sword and the two men fought, steel against steel. Conner would attack, Jon would counter the blow, and then the roles were reversed. It went on, both furiously strong and determined to win.

Jon actually lended some hits, but his brother was never far behind, lending a blow of his own. They knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses, knew how the other thought and moved when fighting. Of course they did.

They had learned together. 

Their father, Clark Kent, had thought them everything he knew about sword fight, magic and so much more. They had trained side by side, fought together and challenged each other so many time both lost count. 

Back then, hundreds of years ago, they had been brothers. 

Conner, being the oldest, had assumed the role of looking after him. He was the God of Protection, and he used to think that if he couldn’t protect his own little brother, than he was nothing at all. So he did, everyday. He had been there all along, made sure Jon always had someone by his side. 

And then the King had announced who would take the throne after him, and the bond they had broke. Conner had been so sure he would be next in line for the crown, but he knew that there was a chance he wouldn’t be the chosen one. No, that’s not what broke his and Jon’s bond.

Clark had. When he made Jon the crown prince, he had guards assigned to his son, and named them his protectors. They were humans, surprisingly. One would have thought that the King would have wanted immortals protecting his immortal son, but they were humans. 

The best of the best, a clan of fighters that trained from birth to be the world’s greatest warriors. It was said they were as skilled as any royal guard, mortal or immortal, and that their strength and wits made them worthy of Gods.

And so, Conner was no longer needed to protect his younger brother. Jon had wanted him to remain with him still, said that his family should stay by his side, but Clark had made up his mind.

So Conner was sent away, far from Jon, and was expected to live a normal life, a mortal’s life. 

He ended up in a place, a hidden city, called Geranium. Hidden because its inhabitants were half human, and half immortal. Just like him.

He would be lying if he said he wished he’d never end up there. After all, the years he spent there were some of the best years of his life. In Geranium City, he was neither a man, nor a God, and nobody expected him to be anything else but himself, and who he wanted to be. In a way, he had never been more free.

And that’s where he met the love of his life. M’gann M’orzz was half human, half nymph. Her skin was green, a beautiful green, the same one that takes over the world when the winter ends and nature comes alive again. Her eyes were a deep brown so mesmerizing Conner could swear he never saw anything like it before. She was so nice, so perfect, he knew he loved her the second he met her.

His blood boiled in his veins when he remembered. 

He loved her, and she loved him, but that didn’t stop her from betraying him. 

And so he put the anger he found in his heart in the battle he was fighting against a brother he had once promised he’d protect with his life.

Now, swords discarded to the side, they were fighting with magic. Jon had fire in his eyes and in the palm of his hands, and Conner fought with strength and shields he could have swore were made of spite.

When the sun set, and the moon took over, both of them were fighting still, and that’s how she found them.

M’gann watched as her husband fought the brother he had loved, and she shed a tear, just one, for the man she had lost. For the love he had let go of, the love she had to watch disappear as hope fade away in her heart. Conner, her husband, the one she had seen grow into a monster, a shadow of the man she loved and the shell of a God he could never see he had been all along.

She knew it all had to end tonight. When Jon had came back to Earth, she knew he’d want to have his revenge on the man who stole everything from him. And she knew she had to help him, if not for his sake then for Conner’s, so that her beloved’s soul could be put to rest, and so that she could join him in another life.

So she had come to them, the brothers who shared only a father, and she waited for the right time. 

It came sooner than she thought it would.

Green skin touched a sun-kissed forehead, and Conner felt numb all of a sudden. M’gann was there, right in front of him, and he thought for a second that it was love he felt gnawing at his heart.

She caught him before he could fall on the ground, and she put his head on her lap with gentle hands brushing his hair away from his face. Like before, like when they were in Geranium, like when they were in love, like when nothing stood between their intertwined hearts. She held him like she still loved him, and she kissed the palm of his hand like she still cared for him.

And he could only let his eyelids fall shut, his body so heavy all of a sudden.

When he felt M’gann kiss the tip of his nose, like she did three hundred years ago, he let a smile, small, tired and sad, stretch across his lips. 

The voices had stopped, the pain had faded away, and the power no longer seemed enticing, everything was just numb. Everything except a feeling in his chest, a warmth he thought he had lost. 

Maybe it really was love gnawing at his heart.

And so Conner Kent died, and M’gann died with him, her tired soul leaving her body to follow her husband’s, hopefully to a better place.

She fell beside him. And that was it.

Only it wasn’t.

Jon watched from afar, watched as Conner died, watched as the brother he loved joined his wife in another life. He watched as only the man died, leaving the God behind. A broken God.

Or maybe it was the man that stayed behind.

Far away, far to the north, the night sky suddenly lighted up. 

Jon had known Conner for a long time. He knew the man always had an ace up his sleeve. He had been waiting for it to reveal itself before his eyes, and it finally did. Needless to say he was not disappointed.

The Gate rose up in the sky, bright and magical. A barrier Jon could not pass through, a shield keeping Conner, or rather the thing that possessed Conner, alive inside its borders. The God of Protection was bound to think of something like that. And now, people would know their King was dead. People would know who to blame for that. People would know who to fear for that.

And to top it all, Jon had three vessels left to find, an empire to build and a husband to rescue. What a great start to another life. If only all of his chosen had been as stupid as the first four. 

He stifled the hope that rose in his chest at the thought of him joining his side. That would be for later.

Men and women were bound to go looking for the Gate, especially if they thought it would protect them from Jon. Conner had made sure they thought of him as a monster, a God with no heart, a former King people had hated.

He’d just have to lean on that. Fear was a good tool when used wisely. And his husband would soon be by his side to help him gain what belonged to him once more. 

He just had to find his vessels and take his powers back from them, and then the Gate would fall.

And then the throne would be his.

But first, he had someone to save. A smile made its way to his lips, and he couldn’t stop his heart from leaping in his throat at the thought of seeing the love of his life again, after so long. He missed Billy so much.

“I’m coming for you, my love.”


	2. There Was Nothing Left To Do But Hope

Damian watched as the kid got through the gate. One more step, one more step, and everything would be okay, everything would be better. 

Helena looked back at him when she realized he had not followed. Damian could only smile sadly when tears began falling down his little sister’s round cheeks. She tried to grab his hand, only to be stop by the barrier. 

Desperation then became clear on her face. When she let sobs shake her little body, her eyes falling close, he could only say softly:

“Go. It’s ok. Lena, go, I’ll catch up with you.”  
“D-Dami…”  
“I’ll be fine. They won’t catch me, you know they won’t.”  
“It’s not fair!”  
“I know, Habibi. Don’t cry. Go. You need to go.”

Helena hiccuped and shaked her head. Damian had worried during their journey that Helena would refuse to leave him. He had though of something to tell her, anything, that would help sooth the pain she would feel when they were bound to go different ways, but he’d found nothing at all. He was never really good with emotions, even though he was way better now than when he was a kid. However, there seemed to have no way to put into words what he wanted her to understand.

So he just let the words come out, apologies he never thought he’d truly mean in his life. 

“Helena. Helena, I love you. My dear little sister, I’m sorry. You know I can’t come with you. I’m sorry. Habibi, please, look at me.”

Damian truly thought he had never been more sad in his life. Lies had always fell off his lips with such ease, and even now, it still did, but the guilt took hold of him for the first time in his life. 

“We’ll see each other again, Habibi. I promise. I’ll be fine, you know I will. I’m so sorry it has to be this way. Please, look at me, Lena.”

When she opened her eyes again, her beautiful brown eyes full of tears she tried to hold back, he thought he might cry too. But suddenly, before her gaze could reach his eyes, it locked on something behind her brother. Fright rocked her little shoulders and she almost tripped over her feet. But then, she fell quiet, her eyes wide open.

If her brother wasn’t already worried, the voice that rose from the shadows of the trees made his mind freeze with fear. The dread he felt shook him to his core, as if an icy river was running down his spine.

He knew that voice. He had heard it once before. It belonged to the Master of The Fire’s Pride, the God that rose from the Underworld and made himself king of the skies. Everyone that had known death had heard his voice once, like a whisper, in their head. A warning, for the few people that were cursed by the God’s mark. 

Damian bore his seal on his shoulder blade, the only proof left of the day he died. So when the time came for the God to take his place as Lord of the world, once again ruling over all that lives and dies, the boy had heard El calling to him, compelling him to join him.

He didn’t then, three years ago, and he wouldn’t now either. Especially now. Not when he was so close. Helena was his priority, and keeping her safe, his only goal. He couldn’t give up now that he had almost succeeded.

The booming voice pierced his ears, and he could already feel the headache coming. The only thing he could think of for a moment was too loud, too loud. Stop. It’s too loud. 

When he came back to himself, the words registered in his mind, as if burned on his very soul by hands as hot as fire, making his blood boil.

“A young man banned from the Gate’s lands. How tragic. Turn around.”

When Damian found himself compelled to obey, despite his mind screaming at him that he could resist and fight, his eyes closed and he tasted salt on his tongue.

And when his feet moved on the ground, his body turning around, his head followed, but not before his eyes opened again and he looked at Helena with all the love he had for her. 

He was glad she was protected from the raw power only a God could possess, and the waves of heat and cold that rushed through him as eyes as black as the night tore into his soul. A bit of the weight on his shoulders lifted when he realized El’s voice was muffled by the magic of the Gate, and so, Helena was safe from the power of his words at least.

Now Damian only had to face his fate.

Fully facing the man he had spent three years running away from, he realized he didn’t know what or who he would be facing. There were only stories of what the God looked like. If Damian had heard El’s voice once before, he had never seen him.

Some would have thought the God of the Underworld would be montrous, more beast than man, or even only a shadow, always lurking and watching, a void that kept becoming more powerful as it feasted on the fear consuming the human heart.

But as is turned out, El was nothing if not beautiful, one might even say handsome. Tall, broad, imposing and only clad in black from head to toe, the silk of his clothes did nothing to hide the well defined muscles of his body. A black fur trimmed cloak covered his shoulders, somehow making him look even more menacing and unpredictable, and covered his arms as well was his hands too. His shirt, tight on his torso, was also black, but you could see an even darker shade running in defined lines across his chest, starting just below his sternum and ending above the waistband of his pants.

Damian recognize the God’s mark, his seal. The strange symbol, beautiful for its intricate design and unknown origins or meaning, was the same as the one on the young man’s back. Only El did not wear it as a curse, did not hide it, like Damian had done ever since he came back from the dead. No, the God bore it as his pride and power. 

The booming voice, this time even louder in his ears, broke the silence that had took over the small clearing divided by the Gate. Helena let out another sob when she heard too. 

“Look at me.”

Everyone knew what happened when El looked at someone in the eyes. Death, painful and bloody death, for the full power of the Master of the Underwold was contained in his eyes, and no man was strong enough to hold the God’s will.

When Damian’s eyes met a gaze as black as the night, his thoughts and worries all seemed to disappear, leaving his mind blank and with only a single word digging his way into his heart.

Gorgeous.

If the God’s body had been something handsome, his face could only be described as gorgeous, ethereal. Pink lips were stretched in a terrifying smile that seemed almost bored. His jaw was strong and his skin, only now visible, was white as if he had been sculpted in the purest of marble. A dimple appeared on his cheek, his smirk widening. His hair, not long but not short either, was somehow even darker than his clothes, but that was nothing compared to his eyes. 

It was as if the world had ended and the sun had disappeared, as if the moon was missing from the sky and the stars had fell down on Earth. Silver sparks shone bright in the black void of the God’s irises. His pupils could only be told apart from them because of the absence of stars in them.

Damian’s mind froze again, but this time, he could think more clearly. His senses came back to him and only then did he realize he had lost his earring for a while. But the only thing he heard was a gasp, and a sigh.

Wait.

Go back.

Dimple. Smile. 

Widening smile.

No.

No.

Please no.

“My chosen.”

NO!

The God’s eyes had meet his and Damian was still alive, so he smiled. Only his chosen could look at him and survive, their mark protecting them and branding them as his own, never to be hurt by a God’s eyes.

But it didn’t stop El. To rise again as the most powerful God he once was, he needed to take his powers back. 

When he was banished to the Underworld, his brother sealed the Borders between Life and Death, so that no God could come back from the Dead. But in his haste to call the throne his own, the God of Protection made a mistake. A God could not pass through, but a God could help a human do so. 

And thus, El chose seven humans, and divided his powers. He gave them just enough of his will that they would not die once back on Earth, and just enough that the Borders let them through. 

After almost three hundred of careful planning, and after he had chose seven humans to bear his mark within a three-year gap so to be sure they would still be alive when he came back, El was only a little more than just a man. The Borders let him through. He was free, and the only thing left for him to do was to take back his powers from his chosen. He did. 

He tore his powers from the few souls that made it back from the Underworld, leaving their corpse to rot in their own greed. 

When he came back to Earth, El called to them. He had told them all, all seven of them, that if they were to join him, he would reward them. Would give them anything they want. He had spoken of ruling the world side by side with a God. Had spoken of power, of eternal life and of happiness beyond anything imaginable. 

Damian had not been even tempted. Helena had been his only concern, his only reason to keep on going. The only happiness he had, the only family he had left, was the 5 year old holding his hand as if it would make everything okay again. That was the only thing he needed. No power, no eternal life. Just his little sister, safe inside the Gate’s land.

And when word came out that the ones cursed by El’s mark were almost all dead, it became clear he had made the right call. Now the only one left of the seven, he had been on the run for three years, and had finally made it to the Gate so his little sister would be safe. 

There was only one thing left to do and Helena would be safe forever. But now… now all of his plan fell apart. He couldn’t get out of this, couldn’t…

Couldn’t do what needed to be done so El would never have his power back, wouldn’t be able to break the Gate and reach Helena.

If only he had a little bit more time, if only he had been faster…

But something told him it wouldn’t have mattered.

Just as panic, fear and dread rose in his throat, just as he thought that he had failed and that Helena would only be safe for what would seem to him like a second, a man appeared behind El.

And the world exploded in pain. 

If the God’s orders weren’t keeping him upright and on his feet, he would have fallen on his knees, clawing at the hands burning his throat and his right shoulder. Of course, his fingers would’ve only met air, and then his own skin. 

But El’s will pinned him in place, and only the tears falling down his cheeks and the agonizing gasp that escaped his lips attested of the suffering he felt.

Even through the ringing in his ears, he could still hear a voice. The coldness of it made him shiver, as if it could’ve truly made the air cooler. Compared to the loud and booming voice of El, as powerful as the sun, this one was like the moon, so far away it seemed you had only imagined it, and as cold as the night cradling it in its embrace.

“So you were the one keeping us waiting. I hate waiting.” 

When the pain in his shoulder dissipated, Damian had only little time to enjoy it before it moved to his chest. Choking, gasping for air that no longer reached his lungs, he could do nothing more than hold still as the Gods played with him.

Because that man that was now standing beside El as if they were equal was exactly that. His equal. His husband. Nameless to the mortals, he was as cruel as El, if not more. 

If the Master of the Underworld could make anyone obey him, his husband, Keeper of the Ocean’s Wrath, was best known for the powers he held at his fingertips. One shift of his fingers, and pain consumed your body until your mind shattered in thousands of pieces. Then, and only then, would the nameless God allow his victims to die. 

Another thing that reached his ears was a scream. 

He thought his heart might stop when Helena yelled at the Gods.

“Let him go! Let him go, he didn’t do anything! You’re hurting him! he doesn’t deserve any of this, you monsters!”

El seemed amused, if what Damian could see through his tears was really a soft smile on his beautiful lips.

And then the booming voice rang in his ears again, only making his head hurt more.

“I want him alive. Not shattered. I’ll need him sane.”

The pain went away, and El’s will with it. All of a sudden, everything was numb, his exhausted limbs almost failing him. Before he could even try to stand up straight, his body was slammed against the Gate and a gloved hand came to rest below his throat, pushing against his collarbones. Fingers pressed down on his neck, but for some reason, they weren’t choking him.

Held up against the Gate, his feet no longer touched the ground, but even then the man holding him was taller then him. 

Just when the numbness started to fade away, just when he thought he was becoming aware of his surroundings, the pain started again, right where who he came to realize was the nameless God was touching him with his thumb. 

This time, the pain wasn’t overwhelming, but was still enough that he had to hold back a scream. His tears had at least finally stopped falling, and it gave him the slightest feeling of control over his own body. 

Then, El’s husband moved his thumb against the column of Damian’s throat and pushed his head back against the Gate. Forced to tilt his head back, he met the God’s eyes.

Eyes blue like the ocean, and just as cold. His gaze was petrifying, almost painful and so very cold. Everything about him seemed cold, his powers, his eyes, his voice… 

His lips…

When the nameless God leaned down, whispering against his jaw, his lips brushed Damian’s skin and he was almost surprise to find a warm breath and an even warmer touch. With a gloved hand, he could not have told, but now he knew that the immortal had the warmth of life under his skin. No veins full of ice, no heart pumping cold blood, just warmth.

But the words were as cold as ever.

“You’re weaker than I thought you’d be. I could break you so easily.”

Only then did Damian realized he still had his tongue. He would probably regret this, but he just had enough of feeling like nothing in front of Gods who only thought of him as some vessel they could get rid of whenever they deemed he was worth nothing.

“You’re… even more… stupid than I… would’ve imagined… no wonder he’s… the one making the calls…”

A chuckle reached his ears.

“You surely have a death wish to mess with me like this.”

The pain came back up and spread throughout his right shoulder, making its way down Damian’s arm until it was at his fingertips. It felt like his limb was on fire, as if someone was tearing off his skin. The worst, however, had to be his shoulder. It was excruciating, as if his arm was being ripped apart from his body, ever so slowly and painfully.

He thought he might pass out, or die, but then, the pain faded, and the numbness took over again. He was pretty sure he was still gonna pass out.

Trying to catch his breath, his head fell back on the magic border he couldn’t go through, and the nameless God let go of his throat. An arm wrapped up around his waist, holding him against the immortal’ chest. He actually tried to get out of his hold.

The God only held him tighter, and a shock of pain ran up his spine with just the touch of a finger on his back. 

His head fell to the side, and he saw El.

El, crouched down so he was at eye level with Helena. El, talking to his little sister, still with a soft smile on his lips.

Helena had stopped crying by now. She… she look surprised. The 8 year old had both her hands pressed against the Gate, her eyes wide open and her mouth pressed to a thin line. She didn’t look scared, didn’t even looked uncomfortable or like she was talking to a God. No, she was just surprised, and sad, and resigned.

El was talking, his lips were moving. But no sound were coming out of his mouth. No sound at all.

Then, Damian realized he was wrong. 

El was talking, his booming voice leaving his lips, he just couldn’t hear anything the God was saying. 

And then, Helena looked at him. Her eyes were sad again, and tears made their way down her round little cheeks again, but no matter how hard he tried, Damian could do nothing but let the darkness slowly take over his sight, just as it had his ears.

He fell unconscious in a God’s arms, his world falling apart behind closed eyes. He thought that was it. Thought he’d never wake up. Thought death had come for him again, and this time would not let go. He thought he’d miss nothing else, he thought the world would end with him. In a way, it really would. El would have all of his powers again, and he would rip through the Gate and rule over the world again, only the world would be empty by his and his husband’s hands.

He thought he was dead, and he should’ve been.

Except he wasn’t.

He thought he didn’t missed anything, but he did.

He missed his little sister calling out to him, yelling his name at the top of her little lungs as if it would be enough to make everything okay again. Only now, she would never hold his hand and look up at him again. Only now, he would never look at her and smile again. 

He missed eyes as black as the night gazing at him, a promise made a long time ago just behind the starlit skies of a God’s irises. He missed the nameless God whispering ‘she’ll be safe’ into his ear, as a woman with bright green eyes, dark skin and hair the color of fire came out of the wood on the other side of the Gate. She took Helena in her arms and cast one last glance at the Gods and their prisoner before running back into the woods, putting always more and more distance between brother and sister destiny had split apart.

And so Damian’s fate was sealed, and the world’s with his.


	3. One Might Fall In The Palm Of Our Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, again, I’m really sorry.  
> But really, if you stick till the end of the chapter, things are really getting better. Jon’s just really good at lies... that’s why Billy’s there to fix everything!
> 
> Thank you for reading :)

When Jon freed him from Conner’s trap, Billy had finally been able to breath.

Being one of the four Gods with direct connection to Gaia meant he was bound to the sea, and could breath under water with no problem whatsoever. But water wasn’t oxygen, and after a while without even the slightest bit of fresh air, the God felt like he was suffocating. Three hundred years, three very long hundred years, and he spent them all in a state close to something like a coma, because Jon’s stupid brother wanted to feel like a God. 

Just remembering that made him want to curse, yell or punch someone. The water had been so cold, but of course, that was the point. His mind had froze and his body with it. He had been so deep under the sea that the light of day almost didn’t touch him, almost left him in darkness as he had no other choice but to close his eyes for so long.

When his beloved Jon had came to save him, swimming down to him until he was right in front of Billy, he broke his chains and brought him back to the surface. The God had still been unconscious, and his husband told him his pulse was so low he got scared that he might be dying. 

Luckily, he wasn’t, and after almost three weeks of recovery with Jon always at his side, his lover’s skin warm against his own, Billy could walk on his own, even run a bit, and he finally could use his powers again. Being able to feel the tip of his toes was really great.

But of all the things he had been deprived of in the last three centuries, kissing Jon was probably the one thing he had missed the most. 

And then, when he was also able to talk more than a few minutes without exhausting himself, he had asked Jon what his plans were for the future. 

Jon had told him of his fight with his brother, and of Conner’s death. He also told him about the Gate, and his seven chosen.

They had moved to the old family castle Jon had grew up in. Conner hadn’t been living there, but it was still inhabited and taken care of by people from the town near by. With a few quick orders, they were all obeying Jon, and life went on for them while Billy and his husband were making up for lost time.

A few weeks later, both were already making new names for themselves. 

Jon’s name had been somewhat altered during the three centuries they were gone, and now, people feared ‘El’, a former King his brother had defeated to free the world of his cruelty. Banned to the Underworld and cursing dead souls with his mark, he was the God people feared would lit the world aflame in a quest for revenge and power.

Well, at least they had some of it right. 

Billy’s name had been completely forgotten, so when people saw them walking side by side and started remembering the old tales, they assumed he must have been El’s husband banned to the Seas. They started calling him the nameless God, or just the nameless.

It used to bother him. He had been as powerful as Jon back then, and he was the only thing keeping the ocean’s might from flooding the world! But no, people couldn’t even remember the first letter of his name.

Three years later, he was used to it.

A flicker of light caught his eyes and he was brought back to reality, Jon intertwining their fingers together. Billy looked at his lover, saw love and worry in his eyes, and kissed him to distract him from his own thoughts. Jon tended to overthink things.

When the Gods broke the kiss, Billy smiled at Jon, proving there was nothing to worry about. Jon smiled back before returning his gaze forward.

They both started to climb the stairs to the top of the tallest tower of the castle. 

When they reached the top of the stairs, a guard was standing beside the door in front of them. Jon came closer and stood before the man. He spoke, carefully, because he knew his voice could render the man deaf if he let his powers come through. 

“Has he woken up yet?”  
“No, my lord. But he should at any moment now.”

The guard’s eyes were glued to the ground. Some had made the mistake of looking in the God’s eyes in the past, perhaps out of habit, but soon, everyone knew you couldn’t even risk a glance.

He let them through the iron door and at Billy’s order, closed it behind him.

The immortals were now standing in a cell. The room was small with high ceilings and two opened windows, both too high up the walls to be able to reach them. Occasionally, you could hear the wind rushing in the room, threatening to put out the candle on the desk by the wall to their left.

Besides from the desk and the chair, the only other furniture in the room was a small bed pushed against the wall in front of them.

The young man supposed to be still sleeping in it was instead sitting on the covers, looking at them with a glare normal men would have found terrifying. Of course, they were far from normal, but Billy could admit the effort was there.

“Why I am not dead?”

For a few seconds, only silence followed the question. Then, Jon chuckles lightly, clearly amused. The man always found something funny in every situation. It was really annoying.

“Most people would be happy about that, but you seem almost disappointed.”

Jon had toned his voice down a bit again, and Billy wondered why. He’ll have to ask later, when they’d be alone and replaying the scene over and over again in the confort of their bedroom, analyzing the young man who spoke to them as if they were mere humans.

After all, they needed to know who they were coming up against.

“You kill your chosen. Why didn’t you kill me too? I am of no value to you and even if I was, I’m pretty sure you know I’d never help someone like you.”  
“Don’t worry. We’re not trying to get something from you. We’re here to talk.”  
“Talk?” 

Damian was so surprised by the words Billy actually felt a bit offended. The man seemed to think the Gods were only bloodthirsty beasts with no brain whatsoever and only a taste for violence.

And no, that wasn’t true.

“I’m here to answer your questions, and William is here to make sure you answer ours.”  
“So you are here to get something out of me.”

Now Jon seemed annoyed, and that was saying something. The man was never annoyed, he was most of the time the annoying one.

“But you get something out of it too, so there’s no losers, only winners.”  
“You lock me up here and threaten me, and you tell me there’s no losers in this story?”

The worst part of this was how Damian seemed very aware of the fact that he was getting on their nerves, and he looked like he was enjoying it a lot. Billy suddenly wanted to toss him out the window, just to see how he’d react to that.

“Do you have questions to ask, or not? Because we can just skip that part and go straight to the one where we ask the questions.”  
“No!”

Jon smiled. He looked way to proud of himself right now, but his husband supposed he deserved it. Damian was finally out of witty comebacks and was listening to them, or rather willing to listen.

Billy spoke for the first time during the exchange, his voice as cold as ever.

“So, anything you want to ask?”

Damian actually took a moment to think about it, his eyes scanning over them as if he could see right through them. Being insufferable every time he opened his mouth apparently wasn’t enough for him, he managed to look the part too. 

“Why didn’t you just sent your minions, if you knew were I was? Why come yourselves?”

It was true they normally sent some of their men to retrieve someone they were after, but this time, Jon had wanted to do it himself. Billy hadn’t even tried to argue with him. His plan had been perfect. 

“That’s none of your concern.”  
“You said you’d answer my questions.”  
“I just did. Something else you wanna ask?”

The furious glare was back, and Billy had to stifle a smile. For some reason, he thought this whole mess Jon got them into might be interesting, after all.

“How did you even know where to find me.”  
“Your mark. It acted like a beacon. It told me where every single one of you were.”  
“But it still took you three years to find me.”  
“You… were a bit more difficult to track.”  
“And I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why?”  
“You got the hang of it really fast, I’m impressed.”  
“Oh, it’s easy, really. You’re just telling me what I already knew.”

Damian had a smirk on his lips, but it faltered when Jon smiled too. 

“Again, I’m impressed. Most of my vessels couldn’t have tell how I tracked them down.”  
“I assume most of your vessels were just very stupid.”

The God chucked, and that was probably all the answer the mortal needed.

“You were just lucky.”  
“What?”  
“When you came back, four of the chosen answered you. You had no way of knowing any of them would. And if you had trouble finding me, you could’ve had trouble finding the others too. It could’ve taken you much more time to get were you are now.”

So the mortal had some brain. Billy couldn’t stop himself from thinking that this was becoming more and more funny by the minute. 

But Damian had made one mistake. 

“You’ll come to understand that I never leave anything to chance. You, for example. I chose you because I knew you’d be easy to bargain with.”  
“You’re wrong. I would never help you.”  
“Oh, but you will. You see, I saw first hand who you’d give your life for.”

Jon had always been prepared, never caught off guard. He was always two steps ahead, and when you thought you had catch up to him, he was a step behind you, ready to take everything you believed in and burn it to ashes.

“And I know the price for your loyalty. I know how to make you do anything I want.”

Damian was silent, his eyes wide open, and Billy could feel the fear he was holding back. 

“After all, you were right. I could just kill you, and the Gate would fall. But you still have something that I want. And I have something you were ready to die for.”  
“You’re a monster.”

Jon’s eyes shone with danger, fire dancing under his skin.

“I am. But when I’m done with you, you’ll be too.”

And with that, the God turned around and headed for the door, announcing the end of their little chat. Billy followed him, but stopped in his track when Damian spoke. Jon had already been by the door and had turned around to face their prisoner when he said to them:

“You said you had questions to ask to me.”

Damian looked like he had lost everything he held close to his heart, like he was ready to just give up and surrender, all in what the Gods knew was the slightest hope his little sister would be safe. For some reason Billy chose to ignore, the sadness and anger in his eyes made the God sick with guilt.

“What did you want to know?”

Sometimes, he really wished Jon and him weren’t Gods. This would be so much easier then. No quest for lost powers or revenge, no hatred between hearts that were once bound with love, no empty threats held against the one they had been waiting for.

But nothing was ever easy in their world.

He was the one to give an answer to Damian. He knew Jon would just regret whatever he would say to the man. After all, lies can only get you so far before they just become truths.

And so he chose to tell one true thing at least.

“We thought we’d see for ourselves if you took at least a little after your ancestors. The Waynes were great warriors. Friends of ours. Looks like things have changed during the last three centuries. It’s a shame, really.”

And with that, the Gods left. Billy didn’t need to look back to know Damian had put his head in his hands, his palms pressed into his eyes to keep from letting his tears fall. Whether the young man was holding back tears of sadness or anger, the immortal could not tell. But as he stifled the strange feeling that rose in his throat, he thought a safe bet would be a mix of the two.

***

“You know that was a shitty move, right? He won’t ever let his guards down if you keep threatening his little sister of all things.”

Jon turned around from where he was seated at the desk in their room to look at him. He seemed annoyed, which again, was not very common. But oh well, all of this wasn’t very common to begin with. 

Even for Gods like them, this was new. 

“Don’t you think I know that?”  
“I’m just saying, you know, maybe we should try another approach. Something a bit more… friendly.”

Now his husband just looked curious. Jon fully turned around in his seat, facing him, and Billy leaned his head back against the headboard of their bed. Fiddling with the covers under his fingers, he tried sorting the ideas in his head. Maybe then, they’d make more sense. Since the whole water-prison thing, his mind still felt a bit fuzzy sometimes.

He looked back at Jon, who smiled encouragingly at him, a knowing look in his eyes. Of course he could tell what was going on in Billy’s head. He always could.

“I mean, we could try to… I don’t know, maybe just try to understand. After all, he has been separated from his sister, whether he knew it would happen or not. And that’s not something you can prepare yourself to. So, we could… be nice?”

Jon sighed, and then he smiled. The look in his eyes made Billy worry. He knew that look. 

“Jon?”  
“Hmm?”  
“What are you planning?”

Jon’s smile widened and he was standing up, walking toward him. Billy didn’t let his own smile appear right away. He had learn to regret the few times he had fell in that trap. His soulmate was now standing beside him, sitting on the bed. They were still facing each other, and the God could feel where this was going.

Jonathan kissed him, taking his hand in his and running his thumb over Billy’s palm. After a few more seconds of kissing, he pulled back a little and finally answered him.

“I was just thinking, you know, since I’m the one who made the threats, maybe you should try to be the nice one.”

Well, that was a surprise. 

“He passed out because of me. I literally got on his nerves so much it hurt him.”  
“Billy, my love, really, can you see him being comfortable around me after… well, after I pretended to threaten a child? I’m pretty sure I made it number one on his list of the greatest assholes he ever met, and we spoke for only ten minutes.”

Billy made sure Jon saw just how much he made a show of rolling his eyes, and then he allowed himself to think about it. 

Jon was right, of course he was. Damian would never trust him after what he said to him a few hours ago. And Billy could be friendly, when he wanted to. 

Still, this was going to be the biggest mess he ever took part in. And he had been alive for at least five hundred years now, so that was saying something.

But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t even the slightest bit curious about the man they had taken prisoner. Damian Wayne seemed, at the very least, worth a try. And maybe this could lead somewhere, eventually. After all, they did need him.

“Fine. But I want the first kiss.”

Jon smiled, and his eyes shone with joy and warmth. Billy found himself smiling too, and soon they were kissing again, a renewed passion dancing in their hearts.

But soon Billy pulled back and stood up, much to Jon’s chagrin. His beloved looked at him as if he had just stole the sun and left him only the moon. The God did always loved the day better than the night, and he could understand that.

The man smiled at Jon one last time before making his way to the desk pushed back against the wall in front of him. He took the place recently vacated by Jon. Soon, his husband followed and came to stand behind him, a hand on the back of the chair and another on the desk next to Billy’s right hand. 

Both men had their eyes locked on the mirror in front of them. Hanging from the wall, big and right now showing nothing of the scene it was supposed to be reflecting, it was what Jon had been looking at before Billy spoke to him.

The cell at the top of the tower they had been standing in just three hours ago was lit only by a candle on the small desk. Damian was siting on the chair beside it and had his arms crossed on top of it, his chin propped up on his forearms. His eyes were closed, as if he was asleep, but the Gods watching him knew they’d be wrong to think that.

Billy had been surprised when Jon had said to him they were going after the last chosen themselves. They had never bothered before, and their men where pretty good with catching the few people they were after. 

There had only been one or two mistakes made and Jon had let it go. It hadn’t really been his men’s fault anyway.

One of them had almost been a chosen. The guy knew Jon had sent someone after him. He had tried to suicide before being caught, fearing the fate awaiting him once he was in the Gods’ custody. But he had been stupid, or perhaps just out of luck. One of Jon’s warriors, a girl called Kathy who had joined them surprisingly willingly, had been able to stop him quite easily before he could slice his own throat.

Billy had been worried when the girl first came along, but he had learned to trust her. She had actually been one of the few humans still aware of their real names and knew what had really happen when they were exiled. When she first came to them, they had asked why, still, she wanted to join them, and she had answered that she preferred fighting for the truth rather than living a lie.

The chosen she had caught, an criminal much like all the other chosen before him, was the sixth, and after that, there was only Damian left. The only man Jon had chose that did deserve another chance at life. The only one Jon never intended to kill.

The six men the God had sent back on Earth had been criminals, killers, bad people that Jon had no regrets sending straight back to the Underworld. After all, he was still good and he would never kill an innocent person. But if anyone were to be asked, yes, he did kill anyone that stood in his way. At least, that’s what they thought.

But that didn’t matter. As long as they still feared him. They could always show them the truth later, when the Gate fell and his beloved husband had all the parts of his soul back.

Something caught his eyes and brought him back to reality. Damian had moved for the first time in almost an hour, shifting a bit until he could comfortably lay his head on his right arm, the left slowly approaching the candle.

His fingers played with the little flame and made it move gently from side to side, as if it was really dancing in the soft wind of the afternoon. Billy found himself wondering if Damian knew of all that stayed hidden under human skin, knew of the greatness that remained in his heart.

Because how could someone like him be anything but ethereal.

Jon had seen it first in the Underworld, and Billy noticed it when he stood before him some time ago, watching anger and despair dance behind almond-shaped eyes. 

The flame of the candle seemed to be burning even brighter in the emerald of Damian’s eyes. His tanned skin seemed to be almost gold under the soft light of the room. His short hair, as black as obsidian and falling into soft curls, looked the color of a dark brown where a lock of hair fell in front of his eyes, and he tried to put it behind his ear for it to only fall back where it was a second ago.

When his fingers stilled beside the flame, his lips curled into a small smile, a happy memory playing in front of him for only his eyes to see, and then he blew on the candle. 

Darkness seemed to embrace him as if he was an old friend. An old soul and the dark of night. It seemed fitting, peaceful.


	4. After All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to put Diana in this story, only I didn’t know where, so here we are with a physician Wonder Woman! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

Climbing up the steps leading to Damian’s cell for the second time in a week, Billy remembered to keep his voice remotely normal. He tended to let his powers change the normal tone of his voice, making it colder. It really wasn’t intentional, but since Jon couldn’t really tell the difference and Billy didn’t really speak to anyone but his husband and a few others like Kathy that didn’t really mind, he just tended to forget about it.

But Damian did seem to dislike it when they talked some days ago, so he decided to try and make it at least a bit warmer.

When he arrived to the top of the tower, the same guard as last time was standing by the door that was surprisingly open. Billy raised an eyebrow at that, and when his eyes fell on the man that for a second seemed terrified of the God’s reaction, the soldier told him:

“When miss Prince came by this morning to check on the prisoner, she said that it would be best if the door was to stay open. She said that like that, the warm air from the bottom of the stairs where the hearth is would make its way in the cell and the room wouldn’t be so cold.”

Diana had came by? Billy had honestly thought Damian didn’t need any other check ups, but maybe he did. The God had not gone easy on him.

And if keeping the door open for a while could help sooth some of the animosity that was sure to come between the two men, than so be it.

Billy made his way over to the door without another word for the guard, who seemed almost relieved. Humans and their fear of everything. He would almost find it funny if it weren’t for the fact that it made some conversations he and Jon had frankly annoying. Once, a man had been so uncomfortable in front of them he had started crying. Billy had wished he could’ve just walked out of the room, but Jon had made him stay with a hand on his shoulder and a look that screamed ‘If I have to live through this, so do you’.

Needless to say they had both suffered thoroughly during the entire evening.

At least Kathy never had any problem talking to them as if they were just two friends of hers. At first, Billy had been irritated. She didn’t show them any respect at all, but soon, the man realized that was actually how she talked to everyone she cared for, and that was how she proved she trusted them with her life should the need arise for her to actually risk it.

Billy walked to the cell. Leaning his shoulder against the door frame, he peered inside the room, looking for the person he had come to see. He found him seated at the desk, with his arms still folded on top of the wood and his chin propped up on his forearms. The candle stood in the same place it had the other day, the wax gone cold for a while now.

If Damian noticed him, he didn’t say anything to him. Apparently, he would rather just stare at the wall. So, silent treatment it was. Well, Billy would get annoyed really fast if Damian intended on keeping this up for a long time, but maybe he could try to last until his prisoner eventually cracked.

Damn his impatience.

“I heard Diana came to see you this morning.”

That got him no answer whatsoever, but the man did spare him a curious glance. He probably didn’t expect Billy to lead with that.

Refusing to give in on his need to roll his eyes and instead trying to keep his neutral demeanor in place, the God chose to continue. He was sure it would take an eternity for Damian to even open his mouth.

“I’m surprised you’ve not gone out the door yet. I would’ve in your place. The guard can’t even stand up straight.”

Another glance and Damian looked about to say something, but it seemed like he forced it down. He soon went back to looking intently at the wall. Okay, that wouldn’t do. Billy was already starting to lose his mind.

But just when he thought he’d just come back later, he had an idea. It was probably risky, but maybe it would work. He wouldn’t know until he tried it, right?

“I didn’t think you’d actually be afraid enough you wouldn’t dare to answer me.”  
“I’m not afraid of you.”

There it was.

Humans and their pride.

Oh, well, Gods weren’t really better in that regard.

Billy couldn’t keep himself from smiling, and Damian looked even more angry, but it really was worth it. There was nothing as satisfying as getting the irritating one irritated. Even if it cost him a conversation he didn’t even know if he wanted to have.

But Damian had already lost that round, and apparently, he knew that too, since he was the one to speak next. Billy remembered finding him insufferable. Three days later, he found himself coming to the same conclusion. Shocking.

“Still letting him boss you around?”

With a glare he realized had absolutely no effect on his prisoner, Billy wondered if he had ever been this annoyed by a mortal before. The answer was probably no. Damian seemed to know exactly how to get on his nerves.

Oh, well, if this didn’t go any further, he could always tell Jon he had tried. Standing up straight once again and turning to face the doorway, he said to Damian:

“Come with me.”

Billy had expected lots of refusals and even some insults, but all he got was the sound of Damian’s feet lightly touching down on the ground and walking behind him as he made his way out.

The guard had his sword drawn when he saw Damian behind Billy, but the God raised a hand and the man let them both out the room with a small bow his stiff back didn’t seem to like.

It was strange. Damian had been told that when El came back with his husband, they had took over the old family castle and in doing so, cast a spell over the whole region so the citizens would only obey to them. But the few humans Damian had met, like Diana the physician and the soldier guarding the door, didn’t seem to suffer from any sort of control plaguing their minds.

The human threw one last glance at the soldier before figuring out he’d just have to ask his captors later. Damian finally turned back and ran to catch up with Billy, who had started to make his way down the very long flight of stairs.

“Where are we going?”

Damian wasn’t behind him anymore, standing at his side, but still at a respectable distance from him for it to still look like Billy was leading them throughout the castle. He apparently let his hostility and disrespect aside for the moment, surely thinking that a wrong step could cost him this surprising chance at a bit of fresh air.

Billy chose to contain his amusement and instead answered the mortal walking alongside him. After all, he didn’t want to make any wrong step either. It would be a shame, when the mood was finally more relaxed.

“You’ll see. It’s not far away.”

A few seconds passed by in silence, and Billy lead them further down the halls and the corridors of the castle, always making sure Damian was still following. The young man seemed deep in his thoughts, and the immortal waited for the question he knew was coming.

“They said El had took over the entire region, and that people were miserable, trapped in their own minds, forced into something close to slavery.”

Billy sighed, barely audible. People were afraid, he could give them that, but sometimes, he wondered if they could be any more stupid.

“Do you believe that?”

Billy glanced at Damian from the corner of his eye, and he say how the mortal looked down at the ground, his shoulders tensed, his fingers unconsciously twirling with the hem of his shirt. The young man really seemed troubled by this. Billy knew people thought of them as monsters, Jonathan and him. Damian had too, surely still did, and he could understand why, given the circumstances.

But maybe… maybe Billy could prove to him that they weren’t what people said they were. Maybe he could try, not only for Jon’s purpose but also for… everything else.

With a bit of time and some luck. Billy smiled. He’d like that. It would be nice.

“I… I’m not sure.”

Walking out of the castle into one of the courtyards leading outside, he slowed down enough for Damian to walk fully beside him, no longer a step behind. When he noticed, the mortal glanced sideways at him, curious. He just shrugged.

“I thought you’d say you did. Believe it, I mean. It wouldn’t be surprising.”

The frown on his face proved to Billy that his honesty wasn’t something Damian liked to hear.

“I don’t know if I should be insulted or not.”  
“You shouldn’t. Jon and I haven’t really tried to appear harmless.”  
“Jon?”

Oh, right.

“My husband. You call him El. It’s because three centuries ago, his name was Jon-El. Or Jonathan Kent.”  
“Jonathan Kent?”  
“After his father’s human servant.”  
“I heard that name before.”  
“That’s not surprising. I told you the other day. Your ancestors were friends of ours. Maybe you heard it mentioned before, or read it in an old family journal. Or something like that.”  
“Maybe.”

Damian looked around for a moment, only now aware that they had been walking on grass for quite a while, making their way down a big hill facing the north of the castle. The young man stopped, then, and Billy did too when he realized he was not following anymore.

The mortal was looking at the castle, a strange look in his eyes. It was like looking at a storm of emotions you couldn’t even try to recognize. Somehow, though, and perhaps only because Damian let him, Billy thought he could see a great longing in his eyes, in the way his right hand seemed to be missing something. When his fingers closed around nothing and instead formed into a fist, Billy understood.

It had been a week since Helena was taken from him, and even if he knew it would happen, how does one even try to prepare for something like that? How does one dare hope to pretend being strong enough to lose a part of their heart and keep on going as if nothing had happened?

His little sister had been all that remained of the life Damian had lost, that much Billy could tell. And now, nothing was left of the already shattered pieces of the mortal’s heart. All the shards were gone, six feet under or on the other side of an unbreakable magical broder, dividing the lands under a false promise of protection.

“I… I think they looked peaceful. Miss Prince did. Even that guard, when no one’s looking, he seems okay.”

When the wind picked up, bringing with it the smell of summer flowers and earth, Billy closed his eyes. He missed this. Underwater, there’s no smell, no sound if somewhat muffled, but up here on the surface, you could feel everything, from the smallest drop of rain to the strongest of wind, warm on your face.

“Jon did order some people around at first, to make sure no one would do anything to… drastic. But it’s been three years since then. Now, although some are still afraid of us, pretty much everyone has gone back to their normal lives. It’s peaceful, alive. No one here is a slave.”

With that said, Billy turned back toward his destination. He started walking and soon he felt Damian’s presence at his side. He was surprised when he realized he found the feeling somewhat soothing.

Little did he know Damian felt the same, under all the hostility he still had for the God. Standing with Billy like this, it seemed like the God understood. Related, somehow. And it felt as if the God could… be powerful enough… to scare away the heaviness on the young man’s heart, even for just a few moments.

Soon, they found themselves walking through a beautiful forest, small but somewhat still dense, probably there to make a windshield for the castle and the small town near by.

Damian realized he had no idea where they were going at all. What was beyond the forest, beyond the protective shadows the foliage of the trees cast on them, was a complete mystery to him.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a sound reached his ears. A small noise that sounded like… water…

They made their way across the last of the forest ground. What they found on the other side, Billy still couldn’t believe the beauty of it and Damian wondered if he ever saw anything like it before.

The sea was standing before them, calm and peaceful. Waves hit the shore in a quiet symphony of soft sand meeting cold water over and over again, and the horizon was nowhere in sight, the color of the sea mixing with the one of the sky.

The salty breeze brought a calming coolness over them, and it was like waking up.

Like seeing the sun high in the sky, when you where so sure only the moon had stayed behind for you.

Like finally letting go of a lie and welcoming the pain brought along by the truth in your soul. Knowing it was always better than a guilt ridden heart and a head full of remorse.

“You’ll see her again one day. I promise you.”

Damian looked at him, and it was as if he saw him for the first time again. With his eyes as blue as the sea and the sky in front of them, the shadow of a smile on his lips the color of a perfect red and his short black hair that seemed so soft, the God looked gorgeous. His sun-kissed skin was almost glowing under the sun.

He was tall, so tall, and his shoulders were broad and strong, as if he had to carry the weight of the world on his back, or maybe it was the weight of the seas. Damian remembered thinking his build only add to the terrifying powers he wielded.

Now, it was just like standing beside a man that kept on surprising you at every turn, as if he wanted to prove to you that the fear could turn into calm, and that the anger could give way to peace.

“What’s you name?”

The immortal looked at him, then. The shadow of his smile was long gone, vanished with the wind, but his eyes were soft, calm and safe. When he answered, Damian noticed for the first time that his voice wasn’t cold but warm, like the sun on your skin.

“My name is Billy. Billy Batson.”


	5. A Star Is Only Bright

Billy chanced a quick glance in Damian’s direction. He found the young man with his eyes closed and his head tilted towards the sky, the sun basking his face in a golden glow. He seemed revived by the warm rays of the sun that fell down on his skin. From where he stood into the light of the late morning, he was beautiful.

Two weeks had flown by faster then Billy would’ve thought. He wondered if Damian had been counting the days and nights like he had. He wondered if the human had even the slightest idea of what was happening around him. Of what was happening to him.

He probably didn’t. He was just a man, after all.

Or rather almost just a man.

“What is it you want from me?”

Damian was looking at him then, all demanding and serious. Almost curious. Billy could tell Jon’s words had intrigued him. He had been right to question them, that night, about why he was still alive. It was true they had killed the last six chosen without exception. 

“You still have something that I want. And I have something you were ready to die for.”

Billy didn’t need him to voice his thoughts, both knew what he was talking about. Of course Jon needed him, after all, he had a part of his powers in him, and would until Jon finally decided to kill him. But apart from that, there was something else, something else they needed him for, and apparently, not knowing what had been driving Damian crazy during the last days.

No, Billy didn’t need him to voice his thoughts. They were right there, in front of Damian’s eyes.

He was still alive. He was alive, and he knew he shouldn’t be. 

“What do I have that you need so much you’d be willing to keep me alive? I’m the only thing still standing between you and the Gate.”

The young man almost flinched when the God looked at him. Billy seemed… troubled. And for a God to let so much emotions show on his face, in his eyes, Damian’s question must have been something to handle carefully. And how better to not let anything slip through then keep quiet about it?

That only meant the immortal was not likely to answer him anytime soon. Yay.

But somehow, Damian got an answer. Not the one he wanted, but certainly one he expected.

“It’s none of your business.”

The mortal sighed. He took a fistful of sand and let it slip through his fingers, its warmth soothing and familiar. It felt good to be here again, for the fifth time since he had been taken by the Gods. He had been surprised when Billy had kept on showing up at his cell and bringing him back here. But it was a good surprise, and he even started to enjoy it, even though he’d never admit it to anyone, least of all himself.

But there was something, about behing here with the God sitting next to him. It was… peaceful, with only the waves hitting the shore to distract them from their moment of silence. It felt right, to be here, and Damian found himself finally able to think. 

The sea was always calming, soothing. It was difficult to believe it could actually hurt people, kill them even, when it was no longer holding back.

“Your powers. They’re water related, right? I know you’ve got that whole ‘keeper of the ocean’s might’ thing going on-”  
“Ocean’s wrath.”  
“But your powers as a God, they’re connected to water too, aren’t they?”

Billy’s eyes narrowed when they met Damian’s. The man was really smart, and apparently somewhat good at deductions. No one in this century had made the connection beside a few persons like Kathy that were well versed on the old knowledge. Jon and him had been surprised. Conner had tried to erase every memory from before his reign, tried to put Jon in the role of the evil King who had been defeated and cast away for all of eternity. And he had almost succeeded, if not for a few people who still remembered. 

But Damian had no way of knowing, no way of learning that Billy’s powers were based on water. And he hadn’t known, or suspected, for long, with the way he held his breath, nervous he had came to the wrong conclusion.

It crossed his mind that maybe Damian knew more than he let on. Maybe the man had, like Billy had thought, read his and his husband’s name in an old family book, and learned of their powers. 

Maybe he wasn’t as clueless as he appeared to be. But there was no way to confirm his suspicions, for now.

“Yes, they are.”

Of course they are. They’ve always been, since the start.

Since Gaia had entrusted him with one of the four elemental forces she possessed, and told him he’d have to keep balance between the ocean’s powers and men’s hunger for power. Told him he had to give his life to the sea, and in return, the sea would give him powers beyond anything he had ever known. Billy had always been strong, one of the strongest, and yes, his powers were water related. Maybe that was why Gaia chose him. Although it would not explain why Jon, who’s powers had nothing to do with fire, was chosen to keep balance between it and man’s world.

Billy had listened, of course he had, and he did what she told him to do. He gave his life to the sea. And the sea had done the same for him. As the connection kept on strengthening, kept on building, Billy had seen and learned more than he ever thought he would in his life. 

Water was an entity as old as time, a vital element of life and a force of destruction at the same time. It held in its core a force to be feared, but its heart was ever loving and caring. It brought peace to the good and wrath to the corrupted. Water loved and water hated, and held for only judge a God.

A God who had the strength to see the world through its eyes, who had a soul as free and as beautiful as the sea, and still found the will to remain tied to the land.

Water was alive, never to die and never to hold still. It aged, became more loving and more hating every second of its never ending life passing by. And when Gaia, the first God it had loved and hated and seen as an equal, had decided her life had been too long, and wished for her soul to finally cease to exist, water had obeyed. 

The seas had bowed to a new God, the oceans had shared their powers with a new soul, and water had come to love and hate a new equal. It had given its loyalty to a new immortal, and promised to obey him as he would obey water for the rest of his days.

Billy had been living his first life at the time. He had just been brought to existence, had just started his life as an immortal. And he had learned everything about his kind with the help of Gaia, who had thought him everything she knew.

A God lives forever, not because their life is endless, but because their soul remains on Earth even through death. Living a longer life than any man ever would, they still died at some point. Centuries flew past them and age barely kept up with them, but they would all have to die one day. 

And then, their soul would stay on Earth, never to be cast away in the Underworld, never to find peace in the high Heavens, but instead coming back to life in an endless cycle of reincarnation. Their soul would come back in the renewed body they had possessed so long ago, and they’d essentially be the same as before, with only little memories of their past greatness. Memories that were deemed as instincts by mankind. They were always somehow a different person than before, but you could see their soul in their eyes, old as time.

Their was two simple things that never changed when you were immortal, for not only Gods had the power to reincarnate, but all beings who were born with strength and will far beyond a mortal’s reach. The first one was their powers, the core of their soul, what made them who they were.

That second thing, it was the love that came to life in your heart only once in your lifetime. 

But something only old souls knew was that this love, it never leaves your heart. Even death could not steal it from you. And you knew it had always been there, waiting to be awaken again. It was the love of a lifetime, and at the same time, a love you knew was eternal.

It was the love you felt when you met your soulmate for the first time in a new life, and for the hundredth time since the birth of your soul. It was the love you felt when you realized your hearts beat at the same rythm. 

No matter the depths you found yourself into, no matter the difficulties awaiting you, no matter how your life had started or how you had led it until now, nothing could ever keep you from your soulmate in any existence you ever had. It was like a force, drawing you to the one person you’d share eternity with.

Of course, immortals could still die at some point, when they decided they had lived long enough, and when the endless flow of time passing them by seemed more like a curse than a gift. Then, they’d just… cease to exist. It was a choice they could make, and Gaia, one of the very first Gods to ever walk the Earth, had made that choice, a long time ago.

But just like there were deaths, there were also births. Yes, the immortals reincarnated, but that did not mean they could not give life to new souls, who’d then become great prodigies, immortals, and one day would themselves give birth to a new soul too.

The life of Gods worked like that. No one could really tell for sure how it had all started, or even how it was possible, but that was how things were. It had always been and always would be like that. You would be born, you would find the love of your life, you would die, and then, you’d live all of that again.

Billy had found Jon, almost four hundred and fifty years ago. He had felt it in his chest, when their eyes met, and knew that Jon was his soulmate. They were young at the time, and hadn’t even met properly before going their separated ways for another 50 years.

But when they met again, the world finally made sense.

They were married some years, maybe a decade, later, and they’d been together for one hundred wonderful years before Conner took the crown. 

Billy suddenly wanted to laugh. That was so long ago it seemed it was in another life. Maybe it was. 

But at the same time, it felt like only yesterday they were just two idiots in love, and Jon was King of the Earth. They had been so happy, everything was almost perfect. Everything was finally starting to make sense again…

If only they had a bit more time. Everything would’ve been different now. 

Just a few more days, a few more months. Maybe a few more years. And they would’ve had an eternity.

An eternity.

“That’s how you hurt people, isn’t? You use the water in their bodies.”

Billy was brought back to reality by Damian’s voice reaching his ears. The man had almost forgotten he wasn’t alone, and his mind finally caught up with the words he had heard.

“Yes, that’s how I hurt people.”  
“But that’s not all, isn’t?”

Clever little mortal.

“No, that’s not all. My power isn’t about hurting people. That’s just one way of using it. I can make anybody do anything I want, or even heal people sometimes. But I don’t actually need to, since it’s easier for Jon to just… order people around. And we’ve got Diana for the healing part.”

Damian seemed puzzled by something, but Billy couldn’t really tell what. He normally had no problem reading people, but the man sitting in front of him on the beach was able to keep him away from his mind. The God would be impressed if it wasn’t so damn annoying.

“You still have something I want…”

“You said he can… order people around.”

It was not difficult to see where Damian was going with that, but Billy let him continue. Maybe it would be interesting, who knew?

“Yes.”  
“Then… why not order me to do what you want? Why make a show about threatening Lena if you don’t even need to?”

What was it Gaia had told him so long ago? What was it he had thought when he first witness Jon making everything more complicated then it needed to be? 

Oh, yes. Lies can only get you so far before they become truths. Billy wondered, for a moment, if everything that they ever thought was true, everything they deemed good and right, if maybe it had once been bad and wrong. 

They could’ve just kept away from him. Let him live his life as he pleased. Maybe that would have been more true than this. 

Or maybe it would have just been another lie.

That would probably be for him to decide.

“Because we need you… willing. Or conscious, if you will. We need you to be the only one in control of your mind to do what we need you to do.”  
“Why?”  
“Again, none of your business.”  
“It includes me, doesn’t it? I’d say it’s my business too.”

Billy could see the anger building up in Damian’s eyes, could feel just how powerless he felt in front of this whole situation. He didn’t knew how, or even why, but the God wanted to tell Damian everything. Tell him why they needed him, why they wanted him alive and why they had been waiting for him for so long. Why Jon didn’t even need to control him, didn’t even thought about it once.

Why they had so much hope in their hearts that one day, he’d be as free as them.

But the immortal kept quiet. He knew Damian wouldn’t understand. He knew he’d freak out, knew he’d wished he never asked and he knew he’d do everything to get away from them. He knew he’d just see it all as a lie.

Billy had learned a long time ago that humans didn’t like it when they found themselves living a life that was already decided for them. Apparently, mortals liked clinging to the illusion of having a choice and a say in how they lived their lives.

So Billy kept quiet for a few more seconds, and when he trusted his mind enough to open his mouth again, he went with another strategy he knew would get him somewhere closer to Damian’s good side.

“Did you ever met the other chosen Jon sent back on Earth?”

The young man thought about it for a moment, and finally said:

“No.”  
“Do you have any idea who they were?”

Again, Damian thought about it, and again, but this time with caution in his every word, said:

“No.”

And Billy knew his chance had come. He’d let Damian in on who Jon and him were, and then it’d be only for him to do wathever he wanted with the information. Whether he chose to let his guards down or chose to wait and see for a bit more until the Gods could actually prove their words, it’d be entirely up to him.

But yet another truth would finally come free, and the man would know a bit more about the real Jon, and about the real Billy. 

“They were criminals. Murderers. People, unlike you, who didn’t deserve another chance. People who should’ve stayed dead. That’s why Jon chose them. He knew he would have not regret sending them back to Hell, where they belonged.”

To his credit, Damian didn’t let anything show on his face, and kept his shoulders relaxed. He didn’t show his surprise at all and kept his guards up. 

But the God could see the endless list of questions forming behind his eyes, and he almost regret speaking at all when he realized he’d just given Damian more to think about, and so more to ask him about.

Maybe with a bit of luck, he’d deduce things on his own and have only a few questions left to ask him.

But when was luck ever on Billy’s side?

“If El only chose criminals to bring back to life, why did he make me a chosen? I’m not a criminal.”  
“Says the one who couldn’t pass through the Gate.”

Damian actually rolled his eyes at him, and Billy suddenly thought it’d be very funny to drop a gallon of water on him. At least it’d keep the man from looking at him like he was stupid.

“Answer me.”

A mortal demanding answers to a God, that was a first. 

“And if you tell me it’s none of my business, I’ll really start thinking you’re as dumb as you look.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“I’m just saying, you haven’t answered even one of my questions. I’m starting to think you just don’t know the answers either. Did El even tell you anything about his plan, or are you just waiting for him to explain everything to you once it’s done?”

And there went all of his self control.

Damian let out a scream when the very cold water was dropped on his head. The smirk on his lips had totally disappeared, and Billy almost let his smile slip through. Almost. It was funny seeing the young man frantically trying to stop the water from falling down on his face. And the look he had when their eyes met and he thought the God was really pissed was priceless.

“You better start running, little human.”  
“Why would I do that? You already dropped water on me, dumbass.”

Well, no one could say Damian Wayne was a coward. He was an idiot, and somewhat of a dumbass himself, but not a coward.

But he did stood up from his place on the ground when he saw the floating water coming toward him. He took cautious step backwards, away from Billy, when he realized the water was not slowing down but coming toward him even faster. 

And the priceless look was back. All it took was a scowl the God did not waver from and his eyes locked on Damian, and the man really began to panic.

“H-hey, you know, I was just joking. I’m sure you’re not that dumb.”  
“Oh, really? You seemed convinced I was stupid just some moments ago. What was it you called me?”

And there went the floating water. This time, when it dropped on Damian’s head, the man didn’t even had time to put his arms above his head to try and stop the flow of cold liquid from falling in his eyes.

Billy couldn’t stifle his smile any longer and finally let it slip on his lips. Then, before he knew it, he was laughing so hard he almost fell backwards. 

Damian’s clothes were completely soaked through, water dripping down his arms and his chest. A seaweed was stuck in his hair. His black curls were falling in front of his still closed eyes. 

He looked like Hell, if Billy was honest.

The God was still laughing when Damian opened his eyes, wiping water away from his face. He tried to regain his control but failed miserably, much to the young man’s frustration. The human glared at him and Billy could only laugh more, proud of himself. Of course, he did not miss the words that left his companion’s mouth, but he chose to ignore it, for now.

“Dumbass.”

No, really, Damian Wayne was no coward. He had never been.


End file.
